Reflections in celebrations of my son’s birthday

I was a co-panellist for Royal Philharmonic Society's RPS Composers cohort the other month.

And someone rightly asked me this (rephrased), 'but how do I reject capitalism when we need it in order to survive?'

This was a brilliant question. Because my first answer was:

I don't know.

This is the society we live in. Our survival comes first and foremost.

However, when you cannot thrive in a capitalist system, when it grinds you down, gaslights you, profits off the blood of your ancestors and tells you that you are not enough - then we have to find a certain kind of resistance, right?

I have a particular cycle that I doesn't link up with any of my (known) cycles. That is my marketing cycle.

When I'm in my marketing summer, I am teeming with ideas. I'll post on Instagram, I'll email this newsletter out weekly, I'll feel excited and motivated.

And then, gradually, I'll start to get tired. My focus wanes and something happens (summer holidays this time!) and I skip a week. Or two. Or three...

The memory of a childhood game brings a new perspective to creativity and artistry

I hate the word consistency

Or more accurately:

I hate it when we're told we need to be consistent.

(Shared with permission)

Recently composer Michael Betteridge tweeted:

'Composers. I seemingly never have two productive composing days in a row. If I have a really good productive day, it's pretty much always followed by a slow one. Anyone else like this?'

In amongst some great replies, I said:

'I try to trust that whatever each day brings is what the piece needs to bring it to fruition (even if I'm angry about it). Tood often we're taught that we have to be energetic and productive ALL THE TIME. Nowhere in nature do we see this. Season, etc. Even in summer we get rain.'

Living cyclically has revolutionised my composing.

I used to have 'flash in the pan' creative moments - they happened quickly, intensely and usually to a deadline.

The run up to the actual writing was filled with angst, procrastination, fear of failing. And if I'm brutally honest with myself, the resulting music was often soulless and not what I wanted to write.

What does surrender mean to you?

How do you feel when you allow yourself to surrender?

To be clear, I don't mean give up.

But if you feel that you're fighting fires on all fronts, what does it mean to surrender?

I'm offering a 34% discount on all sheet music and gift cards on my website shop for one week only!

I'm so proud to announce that my song, 'This Little Rose', is now part of the Trinity College London Grade 8 Singing syllabus!

And as my friend and I cried happy tears down the phone to each other, she repeated my own words to me.

"For this is life, this is joy, and despite it all, this is what we live for." (from ‘Insert Expletive Here’, for two narrators and large ensemble.

Both Black musicians, we grew up not finding classical composers or performers who looked like us.

Jo and I had spent years coming up with proposals that would enable to us to work together, but in 2021 we decided that we would take matters into our own hands and create an album of songs. Each song would explore more historical and legendary characters like Pope Joan.

We are particularly interested in the human side of these stories. They’re good soundbites, but actually, what was the human cost. Where did the power lie? What impact did they have? What were the attempts to erase their stories?

On Friday 30th Sept 22, I was honoured to be part of a panel of composers at Donne Foundation's Launch of it's 2021-2022 Equality and Diversity in Global Repertoire report.

I was there, specifically, to talk about my experience of being a woman in the Classical Music Industry.

I had been feeling really dejected of late about being part of an industry (industries! including film and music industries) that essentially doesn't give a fuck about living composers, let alone women or Global Majority composers.

And yet, even with my knowledge and experience, I was SURPRISED by the numbers.

In my latest blog, I share some beautiful feedback with a bitter twist...

and highlight some incredible organisations who are working hard to make things better.

We often think the worst thing in the world is not having any ideas.

But, as I was saying to one of my composition students today, blocked creativity can be just as bad.

When the ideas are whirling around, distracting you left, right and centre, but there are so many you don't know where to start and you feel overwhelmed and frustrated.

Or maybe you have all the ideas but not the opportunities to release them (i.e. family taking up your time, ill health, etc.)

A little trick I like to use is to help with this is to ensure that there is a creative channel open somewhere.

23 year-old Ella was almost a completely different person. She had excruciating anxiety, low feelings of self worth and felt stuck and unfulfilled in pretty much every area of her life. Now that I've hit 33 and am super excited about, I'm taking a look back. Would I change anything? No.

I want future generations of women composers to know that we exist and that they can too. That they can assume that there is an equal, no, equitable, balance of composers represented throughout history.

Sometimes I doubt myself. Now, after three years of intensive unravelling of the clinging thoughts that show up as weeds, I know better. Work with me over three months on my mentoring programme to deal with your own weeds.

Have you ever had something that you wanted so much that you couldn't even acknowledge that you wanted it?

When I was fourteen, a friend and I created a music duo…